The Spark and the Koschei
by Scotty1609
Summary: After the Nogitsune, the Sheriff sent Stiles away to live with his mother's family in Poland. Five years later, Ethan and Danny are woken up to a bleeding Stiles holding a baby werewolf. And things just get better from there. Rated cursing and violence.
1. Don't Say Bad Words

**Hello, fanfiction! It's been awhile! Here's a Teen Wolf story with a side plot of Sterek! Rated 'T' for cursing and violence!**

**! Daddy!Stiles, BAMF!Stiles, Failwolf!Derek, OlderSexy!Everyone !**

**ENJOY AND REVIEW, PLEASE!**

**(I don't own Teen Wolf. :*{)**

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The young man felt shivers wrack his frame and he tugged his hoodie and denim jacket tighter around his shoulders, looking up past the heads of several parents and guardians that were also clustered at the school. It was mid autumn and chilly, reminiscent of his hometown and bringing melancholy memories up to the young man's conscious mind. He shrugged, looking around for a head of honey beige curls and bright eyes. As if knowing he was looking for her, a little girl cried out, "Daddy!" and ran at his legs, latching her arms around his knees.

Nearly knocked off balance, the young man let out a loud "oomph!" and rested his hand on the child's hair. She looked up at him, giggling and chattering on about her day. The man chuckled and picked her up, nuzzling her cheek with his nose. "So you had a good day at school?"

The little girl nodded, beaming, and launched into a story about recess as her father carried her over to his motorcycle. He could feel the dirty looks coming from the parents around him. _Screw them. I love my baby girl and I'd never let anything happen to her. She's perfectly safe in the booster seat, and there's even a helmat!_ Fastening the little girl into the booster seat that had been specially made for her and fastened to the motorcycle by his own hands, the young man put on her helmat and little teal goggles, making sure she was in tight before putting on his own gloves, helmat, and goggles.

"Who's that, Daddy?"

The man looked up, his breath hitching in his throat when he saw the dark, suspicious figure staring at them. It was another man, his eyes dark black and his teeth sharp like knives. "_Crap._"

"Da-"

"Not now, _kochanie_, Daddy's working on _bezpieczeństwo_, okay?"

It was their little way of communicating, the Polish. After all, she was born in Poland, and he knew it from his mother. The important thing was that the people chasing them didn't know it, which meant he could speak to her and consol her without the people knowing. _Shit, shit, shit, _shit_. What am I gonna do? Hmm? Whatcha gonna do, Daddy? _Kochanie_'s counting on you and we haven't seen these guys in _months_ and I had no fucking clue they were here and _dear God_ how long have they known _we're _here-_

"Daddy."

The voice was soft and gentle, much too mature for the little girl who only moments ago was blabbering on about goldfish and Disney princesses. The young man looked at his daughter, who offered him a small smile. "Are you okay? Are we gonna move again?"

Nodding reluctantly, the man kissed the little girl's forehead, revving up his motorcycle. "Yeah, _księżniczka_, we're moving again." _But where? Jesus Christ, I thought we'd lost them for sure and then- shit. _Shit_. He's coming towards us. Shit, shit, _shit shit shitshitshit-

The man took off on his motorcycle, looking backwards to see that the person tailing them had dropped down to all fours and was propelling his body at ridiculously high speeds. "_Shit_-"

"Bad Daddy! Bad words!" the little girl behind him exclaimed, kicking up her little feet and hitting his back in protest.

The man chuckled lowly. "Yeah, you're right, sorry, _kochanie_. Daddy's sorry. No more bad words." _But I gotta get this bastard off our tail. Mountain ash it is, then..._ "_Chować_, _kochanie_."

The little girl obliged her father without retaliation, ducking her head down as he turned and threw a large handful of sparkling black grains backwards, whispering a few words in Latin and watching with a smirk as a tornado of black ash consumed the man following them. He turned around, smiling at the victory- but only for a moment. Four other men- creatures, with black eyes and fangs and soulless bodies- burst out in front of him, making him swear and swirve, turning abruptly onto a small country road. His daughter shrieked, clinging onto her stuffed bunny like a lifeline as tears of fear welled in her eyes. "Stay down, _księżniczka_!" he ordered her over his shoulder, speeding up the bike as he left behind the town, left behind their belongings and their home and their friends, one hand going behind him to wrap around his baby girl's tiny hand. He was leaving. He was taking his daughter and leaving, leaving like how they always left, with their tails between their legs and monsters on their haunches, nipping at their heels.

_I need help,_ the young man admitted to himself, glancing at the little girl's tear-streaked face. We_ need help... Dammit..._

With a flick of his wrist, the man launched his motorcycle down a different path, heading west rather than north. _I need my pack._


	2. What the Hell is Going On?

**If you're reading this far, thanks so much!**

**WARNINGS: violence, cursing, and slow-build slash!**

**(I don't own Teen Wolf)**

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Ethan was exhausted.

Earlier that day he and Danny and just finished moving in to their new house, a little cottage-like thing on the outskirts of Beaon Hills, not quite inside of the forest, but on the edge of it. Derek and Allison had suggested the area for the reason being that Danny was still uneasy about his powers and being around large masses of people. That, and Ethan preffered solitude, unalike his party-animal brother who was rooming with a hesitant Isaac and Erica up at Berkley. The twins had changed a lot from high school, especially after Peter's mojo and the whole nogitsune bringing Erica and Boyd back to life and everything else that went bat-shit crazy.

Ethan rubbed at his face, not wanting to think about what had happened not but five years ago, what had almost killed Danny and almost drove Aiden insane. What _had_ driven Stiles insane.

Going into his new kitchen, Ethan took note of the small unfinished details that needed suturing, getting out a glass and a whiskey bottle. Beer wasn't enough to get werewolves buzzed, but whiskey could give them a sleepy bristle is they had enough.

It was two in the morning, so Ethan wasn't expecting the knock on his door. His ears twitched, eyes flashing blue before he growled low in his throat. It was only moments before Danny was at the bottom of the stairs, his own eyes flashing a brilliant yellow as he looked at Ethan, trying to control his shift. Raising a placating hand, Ethan gestured for his boyfriend to calm down and back up. It could just be a lost traveler, passing through. _Right. When is it ever just a lost traveler?_

When he used his heat vision, Ethan was surprised. Astonished. He opened the door to see a bloody-looking man with a soul patch and bags under his eyes, moles dotting his blood-speckled face. He held a little girl to his chest tightly, her own tiny fists grasping his hoodie in a death-grip. "Please," the man croaked, and Ethan almost lost his shit.

"S-Stiles?"

"There are- there are shifters after us," Stiles gasped out, looking over his shoulder anxiously. "I led them astray, but I don't know how far away they are. I've hidden our scents with charms, but that hasn't seemed to stop them before, either. And- and I saw the cottage and Lydia said something in an email about you guys making a house and I knew it was a long shot but- but I needed help- _need_ help, and-"

Ethan grabbed Stiles and pulled him inside the house, locking the door. Danny propped a chair up under the knob, nodding at his boyfriend as he went back into their bedroom to call for reinforcements. "How many are there?" Ethan asked Stiles as he sat the young man down, handing him a blanket for the shivering little girl in his arms.

"There were six in the beginning, then- then eight, then four. I- I don't know. I'm sorry, I know I should know but I don't and I've been driving for the past twelve hours straight and _kochanie_'s been screaming her head off scared and we're starving and bloody and- _goddammit_ this is my favorite jacket and there's freaking _blood_ on it- where's Scott?"

Ethan paused a moment, then shook his head. It had been years since he heard Stiles's crazy babble, but he knew he had a Stiles-to-Werewolf dictionary stashed somewhere that he could dig out later. "Probably at home, in bed. Why?"

Stiles shifted, holding the little girl tighter to his chest- if that were possible. "He- I- We-... He's my brother." Ethan could hear the unspoken _'He's safe'_ that lingered in the air, and he gently squeezed his old friend's shoulder.

"He's on his way," came Danny's voice from the stairs as he appeared again. "Along with Boyd, Derek, and Allison. And if Scott's are coming, so is Kira."

Stiles nodded again, although his eyes didn't meet Danny's. They seemed to look through him, like he was invisible, as Stiles bit his lip in thought. "Is there anything we can do?" Ethan asked, eyebrows furrowing as he glanced once more at the little girl. Her shivering had subsided, but the layer of anxiety and fear that hung over her wee body was horrid, making Ethan's wolf howl at the fact that someone would make such an innocent child so terrified.

"My bag," Stiles said, and for once Ethan noticed that the other man was holding a tan duffle and two motorcycle helmats, one little-girl-sized. "There's a bottle labeled _sanguine arietis_. It won't hurt you if you touch it. Rub it on all the doorways and windows, airvents too, just to be safe. I don't know what these things are capable of..."

Ethan found the bottle and handed it off to Danny, who went about bloodying up their house- rather literally, if the smell of the reddish liquid was anything to go by. "What else?"

"Warm milk with honey."

At Ethan's cocked eyebrow, Stiles nodded to the shell-shocked little girl that was still curling into his chest. Rising and going into the kitchen, Ethan saw Danny rubbing the liquid into the window sill. "What the hell is going on?" he whispered, rubbing his temples. Exhausted and surprised didn't go well together for cranky werewolves. Danny kissed his boyfriend's lips gently, giving him a paltry smile.

"I don't know, but we'll figure it out and we'll help Stiles and that little girl, and everything will go back to normal again, alright?"

"Or as normal as Beacon Hills can be, you mean," Ethan grumped. Danny rolled his eyes in response before going upstairs to finish his duties.

Five minutes later, the milk and honey was ready and Danny was done. The two men met up next to Stiles, squeezing in together on the loveseat. Stiles urged the child in his arms to sip at the milk, which she finally conceded to, giving Ethan a proper view of her face. She had light tan skin and beige hair, her eyes a beautiful silver gray. A handful of freckles was splayed about over her nose and faded onto her cheeks, her tiny pink lips turning red as she sipped the warm milk. "Thank you," she said quietly to Ethan, who found himself melting a little under the girl's loving gaze.

"No prob," he told her honestly. It would do his wolf good to fawn over children a bit more. He wouldn't mind getting to know this little girl better.

All at once the room grew at least thirty degrees colder. The girl whimpered and dropped the mug. No one moved to grab it, letting it shatter on the ground in thin ceramic shrivels. Ethan snarled, feeling an electric tug on the hairs of his arms. He instinctively moved closer towards Ethan and Stiles, his hand going out to rest on Danny's knee. Danny stood, brushing his boyfriend's hand away gently as he stood in a defensive position in front of Stiles and the little girl, sniffing the air. His face contorted in confusion. "Does anyone else smell-"

"Blood," Stiles whispered to the werewolves' surprise, closing his eyes tightly and pulling his daughter in to his chest, wrapping his body around her. Suddenly, the windows shattered inwards and the little girl screamed bloody murder. Ethan and Danny howled in synch as a dark figure suddenly appeared in the doorway. He was tall, his dark face obscured by a blood red robe. His fingers were long and bony, his shoulders broad and his teeth long fangs. There was silence. A pin could have been dropped a mile away and a human hear it.

And then the thing roared.

And it was gone.

The front door burst open to reveal Scott, eyes bright red and nostrils flaring as his head whipped around, trying to figure out what was going on. Behind him was Boyd, who shoved his way into the room with a snarl, sniffing the air with a protective yellow eye trained on Stiles. Kira slipped in past Scott, running over to Stiles and hugging him tightly, not noticing the little girl until she whimpered and cried out, pushing the woman away. Kira looked on with wide eyes, her mouth open in surprise.

Scott, having shifted back to his human form, approached Stiles. "I don't know what the hell happened, but it's good to see you, ma- aah? Who is this?"

His voice instantly softened when he saw the little girl, and he crouched onto a knee in front of his best friend. Stiles, much more calm in the presence of his pack, relaxed into the loveseat and said in a warm voice, "This is Lana. Lana, _słoneczko_, this is Daddy's pack. Remember Daddy telling you about his pack?"

The little girl- Lana- nodded into her father's shoulder, peering out at Scott with puffy red eyes. "Mm'hm..." she intoned quietly, making Scott 'aww' and Kira 'coo'. Ethan fought the urge to roll his eyes. The two were perfect for each other.

A knock at the doorway made everyone look up. There stood a chisel-faced, dark-haired man that Ethan knew all-too well. And, from the noise he made in the back of his throat, so did Stiles. "Derek," Scott greeted amicably as he stood, and Ethan was suddenly reminded that Scott and Stiles were actually _friends_ with Derek, unalike Ethan and Aiden, who were only allies with the man. _Then again, we did kinda _kill_ Boyd and Erica... then again, we did also _apologize_ to both Boyd and Erica..._

Derek stepped inside, his frown taking his eyebrows down on his forehead. "Stiles is hurt."

It was the first time that anyone realized that Stiles wasn't only blood-speckled, but was also currently _bleeding_. "I'm fine," Stiles objected, although anyone could hear the sleepy slur in his voice.

"We need to get you to the hospital," Scott said, only to flinch backwards when Stiles shouted 'NO!'.

"No," Stiles repeated. "N-No hospital..."

Ethan frowned, confused. And then it hit him like a freight train. _The nogitsune... Stiles has PTSD, right? Shit, no wonder he's terrified of hospitals..._ Scott, seeming to have figured out the same, nodded. "Okay, just- just let my mom patch you guys up at least, alright?"

Stiles nodded, once more looking through everyone rather than at them, as Scott led him outside. It ended up that Danny and Ethan drove everyone to the Sheriff's home, seeing as how everyone had _ran_ to their house. Stiles rode with Scott and Kira pressed up on either side of him, Lana in his lap. Scott was pulling away some of Stiles's pain as Kira carressed his hair, whispering lullabies to a quickly-fading Lana. In the backseat was Derek and Boyd, the latter fast asleep while the prior was staring at the back of Stiles's head, gears visibly cranking in his head as he chewed over the younger man's sudden appearance. Ethan himself was rather confused as well, but he distracted himself with driving and holding Danny's hand as his boyfriend massaged the tense muscles in his shoulder.

They reached Stiles's childhood home in record time, where the Sheriff and Melissa greeted them all with open arms and a hefty first aid kit. Stiles sat on the couch as Melissa stitched him up, Lana still on his lap. It was surprising to everyone that Stiles rejected the painkillers, but what probably more surprising was Stiles's torso.

The young man was absolutely covered in tattoos and scars. Long, thin black lines mixed in with different runes and symbols, all clashing in a way that was almost poetic. Some of the runes looked Celtic, while others seemed to be Chinese and Indonesian. Most of them looked Slavis, though, what with their odd curves and abrupt angles. On Stiles's back was several zodiac signs, astroloical symbols and patterns dotting his spine and shoulderblades, going far down to his lower back. His arms were covered in black marks and lines, spanning out to his wrists before they cut off. White and red scars laid beneath the tattoos, and some of the inkings seemed to have fresh patches where a scar had been born and the mark fixed. Someone coughed, trying to hide the hitch in his breath, but Ethan heard it. And he knew why Derek gasped.

Hidden partially by his jeans, there on his hipbone, Stiles had a small triskellion etched into his skin.

Lana yawned and curled up into her father's chest, whimpering when Melissa pricked his skin with the needle. Stiles shushed her and turned her face away from where his step-mother was working, carressing her hair methodically.

"You have a _lot_ of explaining to do, young man," Melissa chastized Stiles with little to no heat behind her words. When she was done, she looked to Lana. "Now, sweetheart, do you have any booboos?"

Lana shook her head. "My booboos go away fast."

When Melissa cocked an eyebrow, Lana closed her eyes. When she opened them, they were a bright, glowing gold. The woman blinked, then smiled and nodded, patting Lana's head. "You're a wolf, too, hmm?"

Scott guffawed, and Ethan frowned pointedly, understandingly. "Why can't we smell her?"

Lana lifted her wrist, showing a small chain of yarn around her wrist. "Daddy made me a spoon!"

"It's _rune_, _kochanie_," Stiles corrected her with an amused smile. Lana rolled her eyes and poked her father's chest, going off on a tangent about some something or other that little children liked to talk about. Stiles groaned. "I thought you were sleepy, _księżniczka_."

Lana shook her head, pouting. "I wanna talk to the other wolves! They smell funny, but that one smells really good!" A chubby finger pointed at Scott, who smirked and elbowed Derek, whispering, "She thinks I smell the best!". Derek swatted the back of his head.

"Bed time, _kochanie_, okay? Daddy's exhausted."

The Sheriff gestured to the rest of the pack. "You all can stay here, if you'd like. It's already ridiculously late, and you look about ready to drop."

Everyone decided to stay, and Stiles trudged upstairs with his daughter in his arms. It occurred to Ethan that all that night, Stiles had never let go of the little girl. "She calls him 'Daddy', but she doesn't look like him at all..."

"Besides the incessant blabber, right?" Derek snarked good-naturedly, and Ethan once again was launched into a psychological review of his pack. _He's more relaxed than he used to be, but still an asshole,_ Ethan thought to himself as he eyed the second-in-command of his pack.

With all of the excitement of the night, it took hours for everyone to fall asleep. But once they did, they didn't wake up for hours.

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**Hope you like it! New chapter in a week or less, hopefully. Homework and college applications and all that...**

**Please review!**


	3. Don't Cry Over Spilt Milk

**A bit of Sterek and Derek/Lana bonding time! Enjoy! (I don't own TW)**

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Derek woke up to the smell of burnt toast.

Sitting up in his seat on the couch, Derek blinked the sleep from his eyes and looked around. Kira was sleeping on a recliner, Scott lying at her feet holding onto her ankle, practically drooling on her calves. Boyd was sleeping on a cot made from quilts near the windows. From the sound of heartbeats, Stiles was still upstairs asleep. Ethan had left for work and Danny for school, having shook Derek awake almost two hours before and warning him. The werewolf had just nodded, rolled over, and gone back to sleep.

Which left only one person awake.

A little hiss of "Darn it!" made Derek groan and stand, slowy creeping past his pack on the way to the kitchen. There, in an overgrown tee-shirt that hung off one shoulder- and smelt particularly like Stiles- was the little beige-haired girl from the night before. Standing on a kiddie stool, Lana was trying to retrieve two pieces of burnt toast from the toaster using a butter knife. Derek shook his head, going forward and taking the knife from the young girl. When she pouted and stomped her foot, the man rolled his eyes.

"You're gonna take your eye out, kid."

"It's not _kid_," she snarked, crossing her arms, "It's _Lana_."

Derek raised an eyebrow, but easily shook off the girl's sassiness. She was a Stilinski, after all. "What are you trying to do, Lana?"

Lana suddenly looked much less sassy and much more shy. She toed the edge of the cabinet, mumbling, "I was makin' Daddy breakfast..."

It had been a while since he had dealt with kids, more than a decade, but Derek could remember when Cora was little and shy and would look away whenever she was caught doing something abnormal, even if it wasn't bad. Derek took a deep breath and remembered to be patient with the girl. After all she was only... "How old are you?"

Looking up at Derek, the little girl grinned and put up one hand. "Five!" she chirped.

Unable to hide his smile any longer, Derek broke out into a smirk. "Yeah?"

"Yeah! An' I was wantin' to make Daddy breakfast cuz I know he's stressed an' all cuz I'm a wolf and people are chasin' us and he looks really, _really_ sleepy- So I thought breakfast in bed would be awesome for him!"

Derek vaguely remembered Cora and Laura making breakfast in bed for his father- a human- one day when he fell ill. Cora had burnt everything and Laura had tried to salvage it with pepper, making their father choke and sneeze. Cora had cried for a half hour before Peter took her out for ice cream. "I'll help," Derek said, to which Lana beamed and nodded her head, crying out, "Mm hm!"

It took about ten minutes to get the eggs and bacon- _turkey_ bacon, of course, as that was the only kind of bacon in the Stilinski house- ready to fry, seeing as how Lana had been adamant about cracking the eggs herself and had broken at least three on the floor before she handed them off to Derek, pouting. By then, Boyd was awake and setting the table, Kira in the bathroom freshening up. Scott was stirring, and the Sheriff had sauntered through the house to the kitchen, grinning when he saw Derek and Lana setting breakfast on the table.

Hefting Lana onto his hip, the Sheriff tickled her tummy and kissed her nose as she giggled and squealed. "Thank you so much, little lady."

"You's welcome, Grandpa!"

Derek cocked an eyebrow, confused. The Sheriff looked to him, smirking. "I visited Stiles once or twice while he was in Europe. He had Lana by then, and she was actually big enough to remember her old gramps." Derek nodded at the explanation and sat down, not thinking twice about setting the phone book on Lana's chair before she took a seat. The Sheriff, however, took note of the action and smirked, shaking his head.

It was when Stiles's heartbeat started going crazy upstairs that Derek stood, alarmed. Boyd frowned, looking up at the ceiling, and the Sheriff looked to the werewolves. "What-"

Then, there was a loud cry. _"NIE! Nie moje dziecko! Daj ją z powrotem! NIE!"_

"STILES!" came Scott's loud cry as he thundered up the stairs. Derek was right on his heels, Boyd holding Lana back when the little girl snarled and cried, tears running down her cheeks as she tried to get to her father. "Daddy! _Daddy_!"

By the time Derek reached Stiles's bedroom door, Scott had shaken his friend awake and was holding him tighting to his chest. "She's just downstairs, Stiles, really she's fine-"

"Where is my baby?" Stiles demanded, pulling away from Scott with wild eyes that startled Derek. A yelp from downstairs followed by scrambling led to a little blonde-haired werewolf charging past Derek and lunging onto the bed, latching her arms around her father's waist. "Daddy, _Daddy_," she whimpered, rubbing her cheeks and chin all over his chest, scenting him as he wrapped shaky arms around her, checking her small body frantically for injuries.

"_Kochanie, nic ci nie jest? Czy oni cię zranić_?" Stiles whispered to her softly, prying her arms from his waist in order to lift her up and get a good look at her face.

"I'm _fine_, Daddy," Lana replied, teary-eyed and sniffling. "They didn't hurt me, I _promise_."

Before he could get offended that Stiles thought anyone in his pack would hurt Lana, Derek was pulled aside by Kira. The kitsune was biting her lip nervously, sharing a meaningful look with Scott. "Derek," she whispered, "what do we know about what happened with the nogitsune?"

Derek cocked an eyebrow. "Well, you were there, Kira-"

"What do we know about what happened _directly after _Stiles was exorcized?"

Huffing and crossing his arms, Derek replied shortly, "The Sheriff sent him to live with his mother's family in-"

"No, no, Derek, I mean like _right after_."

Derek frowned, eyebrows furrowing together as he thought hard. "We- We took him to the hospital because he had tried to..." Glancing backwards at Lana, Derek grabbed Kira's arm and took her downstairs, Scott following only after Melissa and the Sheriff had arrived at the room.

The pack sat down at the kitchen table, everyone grim and quiet. "We took Stiles to the hospital right after," Derek began again, looking at Scott. "Me and Scott, that is. He had... He had tried to kill himself to get rid of the nogitsune. He had... slit his wrists." Kira stared wide-eyed at Scott and mouthed viciously, _"You never told me that!"_ Derek raised a placating hand to her. "Stiles begged us not to tell anyone, beyond the realm of his dad and Melissa, that is. We also let in Chris on what had happened, in case he saw any... _signs_ in Stiles that he was getting depressed..."

Scott spoke up when Derek trailed off. "A few days later, Mom took him back to the hospital because she saw signs of PTSD. And she was right. They diagnosed him with PTSD and temporary situational depression, gave him some perscriptions, and sent him home. Around that time was when my Mom and his dad were getting together, so he came and stayed with me. It wasn't until around the end of the summer that his Dad sent him to live with his mom's family. He was a lot better by then, depression-wise, but there was too much stuff around Beacon Hills that set off his PTSD..."

"So the Sheriff figured that removing him from the enviornment triggering the PTSD would help," Kira finished off, to which Scott nodded.

"So what the Hell just happened?" Derek asked aloud, running fingers through his hair as he glowered at the table, trying to figure everything out.

Boyd paused for a moment, then spoke quietly, "He seemed really worried about Lana... Do you think he had a nightmare about- about those _things_ taking her?"

"He was checking her over for injuries," Scott said affirmatively. "He did that with me and Isaac whenever we came home, back after the nogitsune. He would always tear up a bit when he saw we were hurt and we would have to talk him down from a panic attack."

"PTSD doesn't go away just after a few years," Kira said quietly. "My grandfather had it after World War II, and he lived with it for almost fifty years."

A knock at the doorway showed a relieved-looking Melissa. "He's fine. It was just a nightmare, he said. I'm headed off to work, seeing as how I'm already late. And you, young man," she pointed at Scott, "need to be off to work, too. Kira, do you have school today?"

Kira shook her head. "Only on Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday. Monday every other week. _But_," she said, standing, "I was supposed to meet Allison and Lydia to work out the Fae treaty." Scott and Derek groaned simultaneously, to Boyd's and Kira's delight.

"Yeah, we have to do that, too," Scott said tiredly as he looked to Derek. "Excited, -In-Command?"

"I dunno, , how excited are you?"

"_Thrilled_," Scott deadpanned as Kira shuffled him out the door. He kissed Melissa on the cheek and said, "We'll come over for dinner and to check on Stiles and Lana."

Melissa nodded, closing the door after them, and looked to Boyd and Derek. "What do you two have to do today?"

Boyd spoke up, "I was waiting for the Sheriff to get ready so we could head down to the station together."

"How many times have I told you to call me 'John', boy?" came the booming, playful voice of the Sheriff as he wrapped an arm around Melissa's waist and kissed her cheek. Boyd blushed and smiled a small smile, grabbing his hat and belt before nodding to Derek and Melissa, going out to the cruiser. The Sheriff glanced at Derek before whispering, "Take care of him today, okay? He really cares about you, y'know. Always has, always will. And Lana seems to have taken a liking to you, too."

Derek humphed and turned away to hide his blush. The Sheriff simply chuckled and walked out the door after Boyd, leaving only Melissa. "I can take off today if you think you need help-" she began, only to be waved off. "It's fine. I'm sure Lydia and Allison will demand to see him as soon as Kira brings it up, so I'll have them to look forward to."

Melissa gave him a smile and kissed his forehead, a bit of a habit for her. Derek didn't understand it, but he simply assumed that Melissa was so used to mothering Scott and Isaac that it had just spread to the rest of the pack, himself and Boyd especially, seeing as how they were always around and practically exuded the 'I'm-a-grumpy-orphan-with-a-terrible-past' vibe. "Alright, but if you need anything, you call me. I'm already late to work for today, so I don't even have to go in-"

"_Go_," Derek urged her, waving his hand and supporting his head with the other. "I'm sure they'll just sleep all day, anyways." _'They both looked exhausted last night, and it takes a lot on a baby werewolf's body to heal...'_

Melissa resigned to Derek's urging and left, but not before kissing him once more on the forehead and making sure he had her number and the hospital's in his cell phone, as she did every time she left one of the pack members at her house. Derek locked the door behind her, then went up to check on Stiles and Lana.

Sure enough, they were fast asleep. Stiles's long, lithe legs were tangled up in the sheets, his body curled protectively around his little girl. Lana herself was balled up tightly, her face pressed into Stiles's shirt, and it made Derek's chest lurch knowing that Stiles's scent had been what had lulled the child to sleep. Laying a quilt over the two, Derek silently closed the door and went downstairs to watch TV. It wasn't but an hour before Lana was waking up again, creeping down the stairs almost silently. Derek couldn't help but smirk when he caught the little werewolf in the corner of his eye. She was behind the recliner, sniffing the air and peeking around the chair at Derek, stiffling her breathing as she tried to figure out how to get past him into the kitchen without being seen.

_'She's a lot like Laura,' _Derek thought as he looked directly at the TV, giving Lana time to scramble into the kitchen. '_Playful and sweet, outgoing and talkative. She was shy at first, but I'm assuming that was just the 'my-life-is-in-danger-and-I'm-surrounded-by-strangers'...'_

There came a low crash from the kitchen and Derek groaned, rubbing at his eyes. _'She seems to enjoy getting herself into trouble like Laura, too...' _Hefting himself up from the couch, Derek went to look for the little girl. He found her with the fridge open, a carton of milk split on the floor. Her hands covered her mouth as she looked up at the man with wide eyes. "Uh-oh!"

"Uh-oh is right, kid."

"It's _Lana_!" she whined petulantly, stomping her foot and flashing her yellow-golden eyes at Derek. He cocked an eyebrow and growled low in his throat, flashing his own blue eyes at her. Lana turned back to human, but didn't seem scared. In fact, she seemed thoughtful. "Why is your eyes blue? My eyes are yellow, and Mr. Scott's eyes is red. Why is that?"

Derek cocked an eyebrow, frowning. "Your dad never told you about that?"

Lana shook her head. "Daddy told me 'bout tankers and stuff, but not 'bout eyes."

"You mean 'anchors'?"

"Yeah! _That_!" she exclaimed, grinning and jumping up and down. "Daddy told me about the anchors and how they can help me ta stay who-man."

Derek chuckled, shaking his head. "_Human_."

"That's what I said, _who-man_!"

The older werewolf simply chuckled once more and went about cleaning up the milk, having Lana 'help' him by putting down some towels on the spill. Between the little girl's giggling and reciting lines from poetry books that "Daddy had readed" to her, Derek didn't hear Stiles coming down the steps until he cleared his throat. Derek's head popped up from where he was wiping the milk off the edge of the fridge. Lana launched herself at the young man with a cry of, "Daddy!" and rubbed her cheek against his knee. Stiles laughed and picked her up, nuzzling her cheek with his nose and faux biting the tip of her nose. "Daddy!" she giggled, pushing at his chest. "Stoppit! No bitesies!"

Derek couldn't help but chuckle, and Stiles shot him a look. "Does Mr. Derek needs bitesies on his nose?"

"Right. Go ahead and try," he said lowly, baring his blunt teeth at Stiles, who laughed in response.

"Don't dare a Stilinski; we're too bold for that sh- shtick."

Stiles sat Lana down on his lap at the table, pulling forward a plate of bacon and eggs that had been set out for him. He tore the saran wrap off the top and offered Lana a bite of eggs, which she declined with a turned-up nose and instead asked for chocolate milk. "Oh, no, young lady," Stiles said, tappnig her nose with his finger, "no chocolate milk for you! Don't think I've forgotten the summer of oh-forteen!"

"I was _two_, Daddy!"

_Oh-forteen? Really, Stiles? Wait... Twenty-forteen was only about a year after Stiles left. If Lana was two, that means her mother would have had to be pregnant with her before Stiles left... A girl in Beacon Hills? No, we would've smelled Stiles on someone. But, then, what...?_

"Got some questions, Sourwolf?"

Derek felt a lurch in his chest when Stiles called him that, and he looked up at the younger man with a shocked expression. Stiles hadn't called him that in years. Stiles hadn't come _home_ in years. Derek was suddenly filled with an ungodly rage that spread from his spine to his claws. "Why did you come back?"

Stiles paused, looking down at Lana as she made a mountain with his eggs. "We needed help-"

"Why did you _really_ come back, Stiles?"

Stiles looked up, and Derek clenched his teeth when he saw the tears in the human's eyes. "You don't believe that I just missed you guys? That I thought that nobody could protect me better than my pack? That I thought _you_ would be able to protect me?"

Lana looked up at her father's tensening voice and rapidly increasing heartbeat. "Daddy," she said quietly, placing a hand on his chest, directly over his heart. "Calm, Daddy, calm."

Stiles closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He smiled weakly at his daughter, stroking her hair and kissing her temple. "Go watch TV, baby, okay? Daddy needs to talk to Mr. Derek."

Lana cast a glare at Derek, so sudden that the werewolf tensed and flinched backwards, to Lana's happiness. She nodded to her father and then scuttled on into the living room. The sounds of Spongebob filled the air and Stiles sighed, looking to Derek. He looked to the seat across from him, then at Derek, who took a seat.

There was an uncomfortable silence for a long time until Derek broke it by clearing his throat. "So... why you came back..."

Stiles sighed, licking his lips and Derek tensed. _'Oh dear God _please_ don't do that... The full moon is close and I have less control as a beta, not to mention those goddamn lips...'_

"The truth is, I _did_ miss you guys. Ever since I left, I've been unable to think about a lot more but how much I missed you guys- you and Scott and Isaac and Lydia and- everyone, really, even Ethan and Aiden... And then, Lana came into my life, and there were people after her. I knew that adopting her would bring on trouble, more trouble now tha I really remember signing on for, but she's my baby girl, Derek. She's my little princess. I would kill for her- I would _die_ for her. And then I picked her up from school a few days ago and we were suddenly being chased. I- I didn't know where else to go. We were already back in America by then, and it would be impossible to get a flight back to Europe and get away from those guys at the same time, and I missed you all _so much_, and I just- I just-"

Derek noticed how Stiles's breath was quickening, and he grabbed the younger man's hand, carressing it with his thumb. "Hey, hey, Stiles, _breathe_."

Stiles did, and his heartbeat calmed down exponentially. He rubbed at his eyes, chortling mirthlessly. "Sorry... It's been a while since I've felt so... safe. I mean, for once I don't have to worry about Lana being safe, or about those _things_ getting us, and I can just... Relax. And, apparently, my subconscious mind has taken that fact and decided that now we're safe from bodily harm that I'm safe enough to flip out and have night terrors and panic attacks and stupid shit and- dammit..." Tears welled in Stiles's eyes, and he pulled away from Derek. "I- I can't-" his voice cracked, "I can't talk about this stuff right now, Derek, okay? I just- I just need some time, okay? Give me until the next pack meeting at least. What's that, like, a week from now?" Derek nodded, surprised that Stiles still remembered their schedule after five years. "Alright, then give me until then. _Please_."

The brokenness of Stiles's voice was what did it for Derek. Stiles wasn't Stiles anymore. The nogitsune, Poland, PTSD, becoming a father- all of it had done him in, had changed him into something, something Derek didn't know anymore. But beneath that, Derk knew, he just _knew_ that Stiles- _their_ Stiles- was still there. He just needed time for his psyche to sort everything out.

"Alright," he replied quietly. Stiles nodded, not turning to look at Derek, as he joined Lana in the living room. Derek smirked a bit and then called out, "Oh, by the way, Lydia and Allison are probably gonna stop by with Kira later."

Stiles hissed something and Lana gasped loudly, replying with a loud, "No bad words, Daddy!"

Derek laughed silently to himself, shaking his head. Out of Stiles's speech, one thing had stuck in Derek's head. _"I knew that adopting her would bring trouble..." 'So Lana's adopted...' _he thought, leaning back in his chair. If Lana was adopted, that meant that there was no problematic woman in the picture. Derek smirked, then paused, frowning. _'Wait... does Stiles even _like _guys anymore? Dammit... I need to text Scott...'_

* * *

**So I'm going to be having a different take on Sterek than there is normally in my story... More of a one-sided Derek stuffs for a while, with Scott being non-blivious. Plot is fully revealed next chapter!**


	4. We Finally Get Some Answers

Some people have asked me to translate the Polish from the past chapter and this one. I'll try to get everything, but if I forget something or don't explain something fully, please just ask me to explain more! (And I am so, so, SO sorry if you're actually Polish or speak Polish because I tried to make it authentic but there's only so much I can figure out on Google Translate...)

_kochanie, słoneczko_- honey, sweetheart

_księżniczka_- princess

_bezpieczeństwo_- escape, escaping, getting away

_chować_- duck!, get down!

_wąpierz_- dhampir, vampire

_zmiennokształtny_- shapeshifter

"_NIE! Nie moje dziecko! Daj ją z powrotem! NIE_!"- "No! Not my baby! Give her back! No!"

"_Kochanie, nic ci nie jest? Czy oni cię zranić_?"- "Honey, are you okay? Did they hurt you?"

(this one is Latin) _sanguine arietis_- goat blood

Wooh! Also, the OC's mentioned are not going to be a huge part of the story, so you can calm down if you hate OC's, lol. But I am gonna give ya'll a character plot if you're interested in Stiles's extended family! (It will become more elaborate as Stiles talks more about them, if he does at all...)

**Magda**- witch, grandmother of Stiles and mother of Jedrzej

**Jedrzej**- _zmiennokształtny_ (shapeshifter), uncle of Stiles and father of Luka, leader of the 'coven'

**Luka**- emissary/spark, cousin of Stiles

**Olessia**, **Orya**- succumbi, twin sisters from Russia

**Zan**- Fae (unspecified)

**Cole**- bitten werewolf (rank unidentified)

**Dmitri**- bitten werewolf (rank unidentified)

**Vlad**- _wąpierz_/dhampir/vampire

Thanks much! (I don't own Teen Wolf :*()

* * *

Lydia was livid.

Sure, Lydia was often livid, like that one time that Isaac and Scott dragged Aiden home drunk as a skunk in the middle of the night in the hopes that she was asleep- which she wasn't, of course. Lydia was livid when Erica had 'forgotten' to tell the Pack about her new boyfriend- who was a vampire, mind you. Lydia was livid when Ethan and Aiden brought a muddy cougar kitten into their house to bathe and feed it, only to be mauled by the mother when they tried to 'send it back home'. But, Lydia was even _more_ livid the night of the pack meeting when Stiles walked in with a little girl attached to his hip.

"_Stanislav Genim Stilinski_, I _swear_ to _God Almighty_ I'm going to kick your _skinny ass_ for not replying to my last message!"

For about a month and a half, Lydia had managed to track down Stiles's current e-mail and had been notifying him of the pack and their goings-on. Stiles often replied in short messages, too afraid that if he spent long on the internet that he and Lana could be tracked. But, since he had written a short message to Lydia a few days before saying 'Cming hme', he had neglected to respond to any of her frantic replies. It was a _wonder_ that Kira had left her mouth shut to Allison and Lydia the other day- not that Kira was a traitor, or anything, it was only that she was the second-worst liar that Stiles had ever met, Scott being the first and Isaac the third.

"_STILES_!"

Lana jumped, her face shifting with tiny fangs and bright eyes as she turned her face into her father's jacket, whimpering when Lydia came to stop in front of Stiles. Stiles, eyes wide, looked down at the woman's round stomach and then back up at her red face, which clashed terribly with her orange curls. "He-ey, Lyds-"

"Don't you 'he-ey, Lyds' _me_, Stanislav Stilinski- I swear to God, you had me so worried I almost went after you with a shotgun full of wolfsbane!"

Aiden mouthed over his wife's shoulder, _"She did"_, earning an elbow to the ribs from Ethan. Lydia pursed her lips, putting one hand on her hip and the other under her pregnant belly. Stiles offered a meek grin, the king that crooked to one side of his face and showed off his ridiculous dimples that he knew Lydia loved. "Sorry?" he squeaked, only to earn a swat to the back of the head. Lana jumped and hissed at Lydia, only to draw the banshee's attention.

Her face softened and she cooed at the little girl, raising a hand to her lips. "Oh, I'm sorry, sweetheart. I didn't see you there. You're Lana, yeah?" Lana reluctantly nodded, to which Lydia giggled, and Stiles thanked the Lord for moodswings, something he thought he'd never do. "Well, Lana, I'm sorry if I scared you. I was just worried about your pig-headed Daddy over here. He's given me gray hairs since high-school!"

"I can assure you that your hair looks lovely, Lyds-"

"Shut it, you."

Allison came in between the two, giving Stiles a side-hug as to avoid his still-wolfed-out daughter. "We missed you, Stiles."

Erica, recently arrived for the weekend pack get-together with Isaac and Aiden, embraced Stiles fully, earning a nip at her ear from Lana. "Ouch! Sharp teeth you've got there, little pup. And she's right, Batman, we've missed you. Some more than others..." Stiles missed the glance she shot at a certain brooding beta.

"Let's sit down and catch up before the meeting, alright?" Scott said aloud, gesturing for everyone to settle down. Before everyone had arrived to the new-and-improved Hale Mansion- which Stiles had to admit, was rather beautiful with its white-washed window panes and sills, the red silk carpet a touch of gothic flair- someone had dragged couches and chairs out in a large circle. Lydia sat in a cushy loveseat with Aiden on her left, Allison on her right, the huntress cooing to her friend's belly. To Allison's left was Danny and Ethan, sitting on kitchenette chairs. To Aiden's right was Scott and Kira, both sitting on kitchenette chairs, as well. Derek sat on the arm of a recliner, Peter- to Stiles' surprise- sitting in the chair itself. Erica and Isaac took up another loveseat, with Boyd sitting on the arm of it- nearly in Erica's lap. Jackson, who Stiles only now was told had come back from England about two years before, had claimed the last recliner for himself, leaving Stiles to sit on the last kitchenette chair, Lana on his lap hiding beneath his hoodie.

"So..." Scott began, leaning forward on his elbows, and Stiles was surprised to see just how much his friend had filled out over the past five years. Sure enough, everyone looked much older- nearly all the men were sporting some kind of facial hair, save Isaac and Boyd, and the women had all filed out appropriately, especially the rounded-out Lydia.

"How far along are you?" Stiles asked before Scott could begin.

Lydia smiled at Stiles and rubbed her stomach with one hand, holding onto Aiden's forearm with the other. "About six months. We've been married almost a year, now."

"And we've been married three," Scott chirped happily, caressing Kira's hair. The woman leaned into his hand and _purred_ for God's sake, making Stiles chuckle under his breath.

"Wow. I've missed a lot, huh?"

"Which is why we're catching up," Derek input, casting Stiles and understanding glance. _'Damn. If I had to say which of the pack members changed the most, it would be Derek. He's a great big softie, now.'_

"I came back from England a few years ago," Jackson began. "I've only just been re-initiated within the pack. My fiancee- Mia- she's a Fae that still lives in Bristol. She's finishing school there this semester and will be joining me here afterwards."

Stiles nodded and looked out to the pack, waiting for someone else to clue him in on their current lives. It was Isaac who spoke up next. "Me, Aiden, and Erica have been rooming up at Berkley," he said, to which Stiles nodded. "I'm finishing up my last year- I'm majoring in Psychology and I've got an opening at the high school, actually. Aiden's working on becoming a physical trainer-" Stiles coughed to hide a laugh and Lydia smirked "-and Erica's becoming a nurse."

Erica butted in. "Melissa got me a summer job at the hospital, and she's been offering up some notes she's taken over the past couple years on _supernatural_ _first_ _aid_, or so she calls it."

Allison was next. "I work in my dad's weapons shop he opened up about four years ago- after _extensive_ treaty work-" Scott nodded with furrowed brows "-and I also teach archery on the weekends. There's a little cafe down from our shop, which is all-human-owned, mind you- and I've been seeing a guy there. It's nothing special, though, just a little flirting and a few dates." At Allison's blush, though, Stiles could tell the guy was more than 'nothing special'.

"I've got a job working on the biogenetic molecular structure of-"

"_English_, Lydia," Aiden interrupted his wife with a smirk. Lydia rolled her eyes and began again.

"Basically I'm a self-employed supernatural scientist. And I'm paid royalties by colleges and fantasy book-writers to consult," she said with a wink at Peter, who scoffed and looked at Stiles.

"I'm a writer, now."

And that was that.

Ethan and Danny were next, Ethan explaining that he was deputy at the station under Stiles's father, and Danny was the new coach at Beacon Hills High after their old coach retired. Scott was a vet now, of course, and Kira was teaching both History and Latin at the high school. When Stiles looked to Derek, it was Peter that spoke up.

"Derek's now a professional dominitrix."

Stiles squeaked, blushing and staring wide-eyed at Peter, who started laughing maliciously. Derek rolled his eyes and looked to Stiles, giving him a chin-up. "I'm a mechanic."

"_And_ an aspiring artist!" Lydia chimed in happily, earning a menacing Hale-glare which she shrugged off with all the grace of a Martin. "Derek's got a few paintings in town, and he's illustrated for Peter a few times."

"He designed the logo for my dad's shop," Allison said with a smile.

"So, Stiles," Peter drawled, gazing curiously at the small child still trapped beneath Stiles's clothes, only her tiny pink shoes seen beneath the fabric of her father's flannel shirt, "what exactly have you been up to?"

_'And so it begins,' _Stiles thought with a sigh, dragging Lana out from under his shirt.

"_Daddy_-" she whined petulantly.

"Svetlana Stilinski-"

The little girl whimpered at hearing her full name and turned around on her father's lap after a bit of prompting, showing her blushing face to the rest of the pack. "This is my daughter, Svetlana, but she goes by Lana. Tell them how old you are, _księżniczka_."

"F-Five," the little girl mumbled, earning coos from the ladies and Scott as she held out a small, chubby hand to show all of her little fingers. Stiles beamed proudly at the child even as she scuddled backwards on his lap, wrapping her hand around his sleeve nervously. He stroked her hair, sending calming waves towards the young werewolf as he addressed the pack.

"I adopted her about a year after I went to live with my mom's family."

"Only a year?" Peter asked with a cocked eyebrow. "You would've only been eighteen. Not judging, but, did they _really_ let a foreign eighteen-year-old adopt a child?"

Stiles shrugged. "It wasn't exactly... through the system... I need to start at the beginning...

"When I left for Poland, I had no clue what to expect. I thought I'd be pulling plows with cattle and shoveling muck for the next year or so. But when I met them, all of that went out the window. As it turns out, Deaton was right when he called me a 'spark'. My mom was magic, apparently, as are all of my family on her side." Everyone gasped and began to whisper, and Stiles raised a hand placatingly. "Anyways, her magic only carried on a little bit to me. I can't do big spells and stuff like that without the help of amulets or runes- the tattoos you guys saw. My mom's family, my cousin _Luka_ and my grandmother _Magda_ especially, helped me learn to hone it- the spark. I'm a full-fledged emissary without a cause, now."

"You said the nogitsune had something to do with it..." Ethan urged hesitantly. Stiles sighed, shaking his head.

"Oh, yeah. _That_."

There was a pause upon which the crickets outside became deafening, the waxing moon outside casting a forboding light upon Stiles's amber eyes as he gazed through the pack once more. Derek tensed seeing Stiles's eyes so glazed over, ghostly and chilling. Scott gently reached out a tapped Stiles's palm, making the young man jump slightly and look over at his friend. "Ah. The nogitsune. Right...

"Well, when the nogitsune... _left_, it left behind a piece of itself. A... A carbon footprint, if you would. A piece of its magic, an instrumental piece of it that powered its mysticism and supernatural-" Stiles waved his hand in the air and made sound effects, which calmed the rest of the pack as they laughed at the Stiles-ness of the action. "That magic footprint powered my spark into being- well, being a _flame_. That's what made it possible for me to hone my magic, or so Magda said. Luka helped me etch in the runes, and I found out how to make amulets-" he held up Lana's wrist to show the straw braid around it "-like this one. It keeps other supernaturals from smelling her wolvliness.

"Anyways, I was traveling with Luka and Jedrzej- Luka's dad and Magda's son- around the Russo part of Poland when we came upon a settlement that had been decimated. We soon deciphered that it had been hunters upon a wolf pack... Hunters is Europe are even worse than some of the ones here..." Stiles shuddered, and Derek found himself wondering what on earth Stiles had seen that had put that kind of fear into him after the nogitsune. "...We were wandering around, looking for survivors, and we found Lana." The little girl beamed up at her father, and he kissed her forehead, earning several more 'coo's from the pack. "I don't know what it was- maybe it's how much she reminds me of my mom- I dunno- but I just knew that I had to protect her. Jedrzej drew up some fake documents and Luka helped me fill them out. The rest of their coven- their word for 'pack', really- put protection charms on us. But a few days later..."

A dark shadow grew in Stiles's eye, and Lana whimpered, pulling her father's hand close to her chest and nuzzling it with her nose and chin. "A few days later, those... _things_ attacked. They... They killed Marek and Lolek, Jedrzej's twin brothers, and they left Magda in a coma. Their attack was so similar to the style we had assumed was hunter's on Lana's pack, but it... It reminded me so much of the Oni, too." Stiles shook his head, and the darkness left his eyes, although Lana was still sticking close to him. "I'm still in contact with Luka, and he says they're looking into the... things.

"About two years later, Lana and I moved back to America. She already knew some English, so teaching her was easy enough, but we still had to figure out how to make it with no cash or prior documents. Jedrzej helped a _ton_ there, sending us _złoty_ that I changed into dollars and bought a motorcycle and hotel room with. For the next two years or so, we jumped from state to state. About a month and a half ago, Lydia e-mailed me with some summarized news about you guys, and now, we're here!" Stiles stuck out his hands and grinned, waiting for an applause that obviously did not come.

"So your family... They're all witches?" Allison asked curiously.

Stiles shook his head. "Only a few are witches, although all of them are magic. Magda and Ewa- Jedrzej's wife- are witches. Then there's Olessia and Orya, two sisters from Russia who're some type of harpy or succumbi or something. Then there's me and Luka, the 'sparks' or emissaries, and then there's my other cousins- or second cousins or whatever, I just call them cousins- Dmitri, Kole, Vlad, and Zan. Zan is a Fae. Dmirti and Cole are bitten wolves, and Vlad is a _wąpierz_- ah, or, in English, a dhampir. Oh! Yeah, and Jedrzej is a _zmiennokształtny_, a shapeshifter."

Overwhelmed by the foreign names and numerous magical beings, the pack reeled for a moment, absorbing the information gradually.

Scott spoke first. "You said you were still in contact with your cousin- Luke?"

"Luka," Stiles corrected, "and yeah, he e-mails me via a secure line he's created. It's pretty sweet, actually- I thought you'd be interested, Danny."

"And has he got anything on these creatures yet?" Derek asked, leaning forward with a scowl. Stiles almost laughed. _Oh, Jesus. He's grown up some, but the scowl is still the same! _"Not much, really. We're supposed to video-chat on the new moon, though. We figured out that those things don't attack on the new moon. They never appear, never attack, never even leave a trace."

"Maybe it's their weakness," Lydia offered, looking down at the floor as she chewed over the thought and rubbed her chin. "Like how wolves are weak on the new moon. Perhaps their at their strongest during the full moon, too."

Stiles shrugged. "Maybe."

A low _grrrrooowwwwl_ made everyone look down at Lana, who blushed and held her tummy. "I hungry, Daddy." Stiles laughed and Scott stood, grinning. "I suppose that means it's time to break out the frozen pizzas, yeah?"

"Yeah!" Lana cheered happily, shooting a little fist into the air.

Scott and Ethan disappeared into the kitchen while Peter ran off to do who-knows-what, Danny, Jackson, and Boyd going onto the back porch for a smoke. Lydia, Allison, and Kira all gathered on the floor, sitting on pillows, as Derek appeared with a box of toys. Stiles cocked an eyebrow, and Derek blushed. "Everyone's been gathering stuff for the baby, but some of them are a bit... older? More Lana's age, I mean." Lana hopped happily to the box, sniffing it and poking it until Derek took off the lid, spilling the toys over. Squealing gleefully, her shyness forgotten, the little girl sat down with a wooden doll and began grinding her fangs on it. The women 'coo'ed and Stiles rolled his eyes, shaking his head. Isaac approached him from behind, nudging his side and nodding towards the front door.

Stiles followed Isaac out, fully knowing what he was getting himself into.

Isaac leaned against the wooden pillar of the front porch, watching Stiles as the other man toed a stone on the gravel driveway. It was silent for a few long moments. The air whistled peacefully through the trees, the crickets and cicadas stirring awake for their orchestrated nightly dance. If Stiles closed his eyes and concentrated hard, he could smell the pine cones and dew drops on the trees, could hear the babbling brook behind the mansion that led to a lake where the pack had spent many long summers. Taking in a deep breath, Stiles smirked at Isaac. "It's good to be home."

Isaac smirked back. "It's good to have you home."

Silence again.

"So, now that Lana's occupied, how have you been?... Really, Stiles?"

Shivering at a sudden gust of wintery wind, Stiles wrapped his arms tightly around himself, shrugging. "It's been... rough. The PTSD isn't as bad when Lana's around. She's like my little personal nightlight-slash-medication, I guess. I finally got off the pills a few months ago, seeing as how it's hard to keep a perscription up when you're always moving around. ADHD isn't as bad, but it mixes with the flashbacks sometimes and I just... fade off sometimes..."

Isaac nodded understandingly, patting Stiles's shoulder and taking note of the dark shadows under his eyes. Isaac wondered how long it had been since the younger man had a full night's sleep. Stiles meanwhile was shaking away his dark thoughts, looking to his old friend. "But how have you been? No more nightmares?"

Isaac beamed. "Not for a few years, now. Melissa was right. Therapy helped, a _lot_." He toed the same stone Stiles had abandoned. "You should think about trying it. I had sessions with Deaton, some with Marin-" It took Stiles a minute to figure out that _Marin _was _Miss Morrell_ "-and it... it just _helped_. And now, I'm helping other kids who're going through similar stuff." He smiled sideways at Stiles. "But hey, what've you been doing besides all that mumbo-jumbo? Any cop work or FBI shenanigans?"

Stiles choked on a laugh. "_Shenanigans_? Dude, you've been spending _way_ too much time with my dad." Isaac rolled his eyes. "But naw, not much. I attended a summer camp for kids aspiring to be in law enforcement around my first summer in Poland, but... since I got Lana... I haven't had much time for actual job stuff. I've been doing odd ends jobs to get by, some tech stuff, some handiwork. Most of it's been working on people's cars and toilets, though." Isaac winced empathetically.

"Dude. That sucks."

"Yeah..."

Pause.

"How's your love life?"

Stiles scoffed. "How's yours?"

Isaac shrugged into his leather jacket. _'Leather jacket? Really? Is Derek still keeping up that shtick? Does everyone in the Hale Pack own a leather jacket? Is it in the terms and agreements of becoming a werewolf or something?' _"Allison and I didn't last long. It was just teenaged lust, y'know?" Stiles nodded. His infatuation with Lydia, however long, never spanned into anything serious, especially after senior year. He had a fling with that Malia Tate girl for a while, but it was just that- a fling. And he hadn't seen anyone after that, except for a young dhampir guy in Belarus for a while, but when he, Luka, and Jedrzej had broken camp, he had left that behind. "I saw a girl at Berkley for a while. Then Allison again. And then a guy in town- Tyler Oaken?" Stiles shook his head. "Yeah, didn't figure. He was a year above us and never played lacrosse, so..." Isaac shrugged. "I'll know when the right person turns up." A cheshire cat grin suddenly leaked over onto the werewolf's face. "But what's this about those _looks_ Derek's been sending you?"

Stiles blinked harshly. "_What_? Naw, you're crazy. Derek hasn't been sending me _looks_-"

"Dude. He's been eyeing you like a bloody rib-eye."

Stiles winced and stuck out his tongue. "Ew. I thought you guys didn't go for raw meat!"

"Full moon, Stiles. Full moon."

"Blech... Anyways, those _looks_ or whatever must just be him being Mr. Broody-Mc-Protectivekins or whatever. No way Derek would _look_ at me, y'know?"

Isaac shook his head, sneering. "Whatever. Hey, Scott's asking about us. Let's go in."

Stiles followed Isaac in, only to have a sudden ray of pain shoot down his spine. "AUGH- _Shit_-"

"STILES!"

It took several moments for Stiles to blink away the black spots around his vision, but when he did, he had the worried faces of Isaac, Scott, and Derek in his very-much personal space. "Whoa, guys, I'm fine-"

"You almost _collapsed_, idiot," Derek growled, eyebrows furrowed into a tight line. Stiles shook his head, rubbing his eyes nonchalantly, although all the wolves around him could sense his heartbeat quickening.

"Yeah, that happens when-"

"You're _used_ to it?!"

"Shut up and let him talk!" Scott exclaimed, glaring at Derek who huffed back.

Stiles began again. "That happens when- shit- when the things are getting close. Shit, shit, shit- Lana-"

"She's with Erica and Lydia inside," Derek said.

"Get them in the cellar- this thing's still got a cellar, right?" At Derek's nod, Scott sent Isaac off to get the three females downstairs. "We need to prep for them."

"I thought you said you didn't know how to beat them," Scott cried indignantly. Stiles shook his head, feeling a migraine coming on.

"No, I can't beat them, but I know how to told them off for a while." Stiles simpered slyly. "You learn a few things when you're in the great outback of Russia for three months with nothing but a snarky cousin and a few runes."

"Great," Derek said, staring off past Stiles's shoulder, "Because I see them coming."

"_Shit_."

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**LYDIA'S PREGGERS. GDI AIDEN.**


	5. Oh, That's Cool- They Glow, Too

**these chapters keep getting longer... *sheepish smile***

**MORE STEREK IN THIS CHAPPIE AND MORE 'DEREK AND LANA' FLUFFS**

**********************IMPORTANT************************* : tell me what you want to see Sterek-wise and plot-wise, because I'm almost out of magic juice...**

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"Get into the cellar!"

"_What_?" Erica snarked incredulously, raising an eyebrow at Isaac, although she was already standing when she felt his tenseness.

"Get into the cellar! They're coming," he repeated, eyes wide and frantic as he helped Lydia to stand. Lana whimpered and withdrew to the wall, hugging herself tightly. Erica looked at the little girl, then to Isaac who was being smacked in the arm by a certain banshee. "You two go on," the werewolf addressed them. "I'm gonna get her down there, too."

Isaac nodded and led Lydia to the cellar while Erica rounded back towards Lana. Crouching down to the little girl's height, Erica tried to seem as least threatening as possible- which was difficult when she was wearing spiked stilletos and a leather bustiere. "Lana?"

Lana whimpered and pulled her knees to her chest, sitting down on her rump with a _plop_. When she peered up at Erica, the woman smiled softly at the bright beta eyes that were flashing her way. "Hey, sugar. It's alright." Everyone was running around and shouting by now, and Stiles was throwing bottles and amulets around, ordering Derek and Scott what to do. The noise was murder on Erica's ears, so she could only imagine what it was like for a baby werewolf who couldn't control her shift, much less her hearing. "Your daddy's trying to protect you right now, so I need you to come with me, okay?" When Erica reached out to the girl, Lana growled and slashed at her wrist with tiny claws.

Erica sighed, leaning back on her heels and running a hand through her tangled locks. "Okaaay..." Suddenly a thought came to her. "Hey, Lana? Do you know who Batman is?"

Lana cast Erica a confused stare, but nodded. Erica grinned. "Then you know who Catwoman is, too, hmm?" Lana nodded again. "Well, see, when your daddy and I were younger, we were really good friends. I called him Batman, and he called me Catwoman... I know you're scared, but can you be brave for your daddy? I think you would make a really good Robin..."

Lana's eyes went back to their original silver color, and she made a meek noise of agreement, taking Erica's outstretched hand. Erica led the little girl down to the cellar. It was more of a sitting room than a cellar, with carpet and rocking chairs and even a few windows that were covered up by bushes. Her keen eyes could see out, though, and Erica peered into the darkness for any sign of the monsters. Lydia, from her position in a rocking chair, made grabby arms at Lana and crooned to her as the little girl sat rigidly in her lap. It only took a few strokes of her hair to calm the baby werewolf, however, and she was soon purring and rubbing her chin on Lydia's shoulder.

Erica flinched as a loud noise came from upstairs, sounding like a mix of a bomb and thunder. Lana cried out fearfully, clutching to Lydia's hand. With haunted eyes, she stared at Erica and whispered, "Th-They're here..."

Stiles was busy running around ordering Scott and Derek on how to prep the Hale house, but he saw Erica coax his daughter into the cellar and felt a fragment of relief leave his chipped shoulders. He grabbed a bottle of _sanguine arietis__- a much larger one, practically a milk gallon of it- and tossed it to Scott, who caught it skillfully. "Line every enterance to the house with that." Scott nodded and darted off, leaving the rest of the pack with Stiles. "Boyd," Stiles handed said werewolf a jar of what looked to be broken crystals, "this is a ritual protection shield. Just pour the crystals around the door to the cellar and any windows and say '____signo__'. Jackson, this is ____menstrualis sanguis ex capella__."_

_Jackson screwed up his nose. "Do I want to know?"_

_"No, you don't. Make a big circle of it on all the doors." Jackson and Boyd left to do their duties, and the twins took a step towards Stiles. "Can you two go outside and see how close they are? With, like, your werewolf stuffs?" Ethan snorted, and Aiden rolled his eyes. "Oh! But take these-" Stiles handed the two small straw and crystal bracelets "-they're Lana's size so you should just hold them, but they're basic invisibility amulets. The things won't be able to smell or see you, but they'll be able to hear you if you're not too quiet, so ____be quiet__."_

_Derek, impressed by Stiles's handiness, stood back as the young emissary ordered around his pack. If they weren't in the current situation, Derek might have been sightly aroused. To see Stiles treating his pack like this, not badly but stern and commanding, it was a turn-on. And then Stiles faced Derek. "I have a big job for you." Derek blinked, mentally sending away his dirty thoughts as he neared Stiles. "What?"_

_"This is gonna sound weird," Stiles said as he began to strip, and Derek felt his mouth go dry, "but I trust you to do it." Stiles threw his shirt away, revealing lithe but sculpted abs and pecs covered in tattoos and scars. He sat down on a chair, gesturing for Derek to sit next to him. "I wasn't prepared at Ethan's and Danny's house, but I'm prepared now." Stiles pulled out a ritual blade, and Derek felt his blood run cold._

_The blade was short, but wicked with a teethed edge that held swirls and blood-red gemstones in its core. The opposite side was thin and sharp, looking about the width of a razor. Derek could feel the magic radiate from the blade, and he could smell Stiles's blood permeating its iron. "This is a ____caedes__, a magic bloodshedder. Every emissary has one. When we do really powerful spells that require our blood, we use this. But I'm not going to be able to do this myself. I'm going to be concentrating too hard on the spell, seeing as how it's very, very, ____very very very__ hard and nearly impossible to do in confined spaces- but I'll do it right, don't worry about your house-" at that Derek cocked an eyebrow "-I just need you to cut my skin enough for blood to flow. Preferably on my back because that's where my magic is centered."_

_"What?"_

_Stiles shook his head. "Emissaries have an area where their magic is centered- for Deaton it's his wrists, for me it's my back. Anyways, normally I can reach around and do it but this spell is ____ridonculous__ and I need your help- can you do that?"_

_Derek looked into Stiles's eyes, noting the protective and fierce flame that was churning behind amber lenses. He didn't want to do this. He didn't want to hurt his pack. He had done enough of that in years prior. But the way Stiles was looking at him, as if all was lost if Derek wouldn't help him, made the beta nod. Stiles gave a relieved sigh and smirked at him. "Great. Now we just have to-"_

_"They're almost here!" Ethan exclaimed, panting heavily as he and Aiden launched themselves into the room, slamming the door. Stiles froze up, and Derek put a hand on his shoulder._

_"Stiles... We're here to help you. We're your pack."_

___Pack__ seemed to register, because the young man came back to life, turning his head to look at Derek with an emotion that the werewolf couldn't decipher._

_"...Okay. Derek, when I say... Everyone else, you might wanna stand behind me..."_

_And that's how they went- the entire pack standing behind Stiles and Derek, the latter holding a magic knife that seemed to be burning his palm the tighter he clung to it, and the prior shivering nervously, his fingers drumming across his thigh methodically. The pack was tense, watching Stiles and the doors and windows with bated breath. Scott was edging closer to Stiles and Kira with every passing moment. Jackson and Aiden were in the hallway leading to the cellar, but they kept sticking their heads into the main room to check and see what was going on. Danny and Ethan were holding hands, Ethan positioning himself in front of Danny as the man tried to control his nervous shift. Allison was holding her bow tightly, sending Stiles uneasy glances._

_And then it happened._

_The windows shattered inwards with a long, high-pitched shriek that sounded much too like a banshee for comfort. Swirling black shadows lunged forward, engulfing the room, choking the wolves with its sharp smell of rotting eggs and blood. Several roars rang throughout the room, and Stiles shouted for Derek. Derek, his hand tightly wound around Stiles's thin hip, raised the knife between Stiles's shoulder blades-_

_Only to have it knocked out of his hand. Swearing and roaring at the hooded figure that separated him from Stiles, Derek unleashed his wolf. He threw punch after punch at the hooded figures surrounding him, only for them to dodge. Finally, Derek threw a faux punch at one of the side and whirled around at the last moment, doing a horizontal flip in the air and kicking his clawed feet at the figure to his right. The shadow didn't even flinch as Derek's claws sunk into it's chest. It simply grabbed the werewolf by the ankle and threw him across the room into the wall, shrieking a terrible shriek that made Derek's blood curdle._

_Unable to see anything past the fog and the blood dripping into his eyes, Derek roared for his pack. To his left somewhere, Kira answered with her own hissing growl. To his right, he heard Scott. And across the room was Peter, who Derek only just realized hadn't bolted when he had the chance. ____Brownie points for you, Uncle Creep.__ Pulling himself up on the wall, Derek shouted, neck tensing, "STILES!"_

_An answering call echoed across the room, seemingly miles and miles away. It was so soft Derek almost didn't hear it. ____"Derek!..."_

_A growl deep in his throat, Derek rammed head-first into the shadows, cursing when he impacted what certainly felt like Danny and sent the two sprawling out over the floor. Despite being face-to-face with the other wolf, Derek couldn't see Danny's morphed features past the horrid swirling shadows. A cry of pain followed by a loud ____"KIRA!" __let Derek know that his pack was failing in their defensive manuvers._

_"__Derek!..."_

_Stiles sounded closer, now, but still much too far for comfort. Standing with an ache in his step, Derek romped through the shadows until he bumped into another pack mate- Allison, or so he smelt. The human was holding her own against two shadow figures, but Derek could sense the weariness in her shivering muscles. The smell of her blood and tears made Derek's own blood boil, and he dragged her away from the figures, roaring as loud as he could in their faces. They shrieked back, one throwing its hand at Derek's chest. The werewolf let out a pained shout as five long, pencil-thin claws dug through his chest. He gripped the monster's wrist, twisting it until it should have snapped- but it simply rotated back to its proper position, the figure throwing its other hand out to attack Derek. Allison did something, though, which kept off the attack and made the enemy shriek in pain and launch itself at her. Allison was suddenly gone, though, off towards where Derek heard Isaac's ragged breathing coming from._

___We're all going to die if this keeps up,__ Derek thought morbidly, continuing on towards where he assumed Stiles was. As he walked, his muscles felt tired. The smoke around him seemed to thicken, and when he looked at his feet, Derek saw a black, lumpy sludge slowing him down. He snarled and tried to pick one foot up rather unsuccessfully, roaring in anger when his ankle was strained painfully. "STILES!"_

_"__Lychinus diruo!"_

_The smog was suddenly thinned- not cleared, but thinned to where it seemed there was simply a smokescreen over the pack. Derek's eyes flashed to where several of his friends were lying on the floor, some of them up and fighting but losing badly. And there, only ten steps away from him, sat Stiles on the floor, blood dripping from his torn lip. Eyes wide, the human nearly cried out in relief when Derek crouched in front of him. "Derek, I need you to-"_

_Derek looked down at Stiles's hands, where the younger man was holding his caedus. Derek took it and, without a second thought, dragged it down Stiles's spine. Stiles gasped, but Derek could also hear a few words drag from his lips. "____Praemunio et proiectus hice familia__."_

_It was terrifying what happened next, and Derek could see what Stiles meant by 'carbon-footprint'._

_Stiles's eyes opened as wide as they possibly could and changed to a milky white swirl of color, much too reminiscent of the nogitsune's eyes for Derek's delight. His mouth opened wide and he coughed, straining for air as the tattoos over his torso burned a brilliant incandescent white. His hands gripped Derek's wrists tightly as his back bowed, head throwing itself backwards as he ____screamed__. Derek winced as he held onto Stiles's hands tightly, pushing the burning the other man's tattoos did to his skin to the back of his mind. Stiles's veins bulged from his neck and face, and Derek was frightened for a moment they would burst. Then, the light from Stiles's tattoos flung the shapes outwards, attacking the shadows and making the monsters scream in pain._

_And then, it was over._

_Derek caught Stiles as the young man collapsed into his arms, chest heaving and mouth wide open as he clutched Derek's thigh, shivering manically. Derek gathered Stiles into his chest, inspecting him for injury besides his lip and back. Besides a few bruises, he seemed alright. He was exhausted, sweating, and shivering, but alright. His heartbeat was going crazy, but he was alright. He__was____ alright. __Derek heaved a sigh, resting his chin on Stiles's head as the young man curled into his chest, fingers spasming around Derek's shirt._

_The pack was splayed around the room in small groups of injured and uninjured, although the prior was a much higher number. Allison was sitting with Isaac and Peter, nursing a terribly sprained wrist to her stomach as she helped Peter stop the bleeding from his torso. Isaac was unconscious, but seemed to be uninjured beyond a lump on his temple. Danny and Ethan were huddled against the couch, Ethan coaxing Danny quietly into turning back to his human form. The new werewolf, shaken up from the fight, was vibrating from adrenaline and snapping his jaws at his mate, blood running from his cut-up neck and pecs. Ethan seemed to be one of the lucky uninjured, as did Scott. Scott had Kira in his lap, holding tightly to her rapidly bleeding wrists. It seemed like one of the shadow figures had gotten a hold of her with the same claws it had attacked Derek with. Narrow, deep gashes in Kira's wrists and forearms bled freely as she leaned against Scott, whimpering as he drained her pain. Boyd sat next to the two, positioning his broken leg so it would heal properly._

_Stiles groaned, and Derek looked down at him with as much concern as the brooding beta could muster. "...Der'k?" he moaned, eyes closing tightly at the seemingly blinding lights in the room, contrasted with the hazy shadows from earlier. "Wh'r's... Wher'... L-L'na...?"_

_Derek's head snapped up, and his eyes met Scott's, whom he knew then had been listening to Stiles. "AIDEN! JACKSON!" Scott roared into the hallway, to receive no response. Danny and Ethan bolted up, a now-conscious Isaac right behind them. Derek, leaving Stiles with Allison and Peter, followed the three down to the cellar._

_Danny rammed the door open, earning a concerned look from Ethan before the werewolves all ran into the room to find-_

_Aiden and Jackson stared at them with wide eyes, confusion clear on their features. Aiden was holding Lydia tightly in his arms, and Jackson was shielding Erica over in a corner of the room. Erica peered around Jackson's shoulder and sighed when she saw her pack mates. "Is everyone alright?"_

_"They'll live," Ethan replied with a nod. Everyone in the cellar breathed a sigh of relief until Danny said, "Where's Lana?"_

_Erica gently pushed Jackson away from her, looking down at the bundle of blankets in her arms. "There were so many shadows and I couldn't- I couldn't ____see anything__, but Lana jumped into my arms and- she's alright. Terrified, but alright."_

_Derek sighed audibly, and Ethan cast him an amused glance, which the older man chose to ignore. "Is she-"_

_"D-Daddy?" Lana whimpered, pulling the blanket down just enough so that her little yellow eyes could peer out of it. Derek approached, crouching next to her. Lana whimpered again as Derek cupped her face with his large, calloused hand. Lana nustled it with her cheek and nose, her tiny fangs peering past quivering lips as she looked at Derek questioningly._

_"He's alright. Everyone's alright, Lana."_

_Lana began to sob._

_A few hours later, the pack was licking their wounds back at the Stilinski residence. Lana had latched herself to her father's torso and wouldn't let go for a moment, not even when Lydia was wrapping up Stiles's back. The Sheriff had a double shift that night, but Melissa had come home to a thoroughly bloody and beaten pack snuggling in a large pile in the living room. She laughed at them before getting down to business, helping set broken bones and suture larger wounds that were healing too slowly. When she rounded to Stiles and Lana, Melissa began to coo._

_Lana was asleep, tear-stains tracking down pudgy cheeks. Despite this, she still had a death grip on Stiles's arm, her baby claws digging into his skin- though not deep enough to draw blood, as Stiles had already taught her after several incidents- and her nose burrowed against the side of his neck. "I would take a picture but I don't want to wake her," Melissa said as she kissed Stiles's forehead. "You look beat. Need anything?"_

_"Water?" Stiles croaked, and Melissa went to get just that._

_Peter was the first to ask, of course. "Just what the hell was that spell, Stiles?"_

_Stiles licked his lips, looking down at his daughter. "I... It's a really strong spell that pulls all of my magic and leaves me useless for a few hours. It scares them off, though. It's basically all of my magic banning together and creating a luminescent shield that destroys bad spirits."_

_"So they're spirits?" Erica asked, eyebrows furrowed._

_Stiles scoffed, sending her a condoling smile. "I wish it was that easy. The spell destroys bad spirits, it only pushes these guys away. My strongest spell and all it does is scare them..."_

_Melissa appeared with water for everyone, and Stiles silently thanked her for her speediness. ____I guess it comes with being a nurse, huh? __"I'll try to answer your questions," he told the pack, "But I honestly don't know much more than what I've already told you."_

_"You don't know any way at all to kill them?" Jackson reaffirmed._

_"No... Nothing."_

_"It would help if we know what they are," Allison input, the gears in her brain already working, and Stiles praised the Lord for her level-headedness and training. "I can talk to my dad, look through the beastiary, talk to Deaton. I'll see what's up with those things. And maybe your cousin will have some light to shed when he calls."_

_Stiles nodded, mostly listening. Part of him was focused on Derek, curiously inspecting the way the werewolf was gazing at Lana's sleeping form with some sort of soft emotion, his eyes warm and his lips curled up in a miniscule smile. "Can you help me put her to bed?" he asked quietly, to which Derek nodded eagerly. The pack sniggered, but Stiles simply rolled his eyes and carried on. ____The Queen would be proud. Hmph!_

_Derek opened the bedroom door for Stiles, and he whispered his thanks as he pried Lana off of him and set her on the bed to go and get her pajamas. Lana began to writhe and whimper, so Derek sat next to her and let her grab onto his hand with her little claws, caressing her hair with his free hand. In her sleep, the baby werewolf crooned and rolled over so her face was pressed into Derek's knee. She sniffed him and made an adorable huffing mewl-slash-growl noise, nibbling on his jeans._

_"Is that typical? She does that sometimes, and I don't know if it's a werewolf thing of a baby thing..."_

_Derek looked up at Stiles, blushing hard when he saw the young man was only in boxer briefs, pulling pajama pants up his limber hips. They hung in a way that left little to the imagination and made Derek thank every diety he knew of that Stiles wasn't a wolf so he couldn't smell Derek's current state. "It's a baby-werewolf thing," Derek said. "Baby werewolves like to sharpen their teeth and just chew on stuff. It's a habit that she'll drop when she gets older."_

_Stiles giggled. "Like a puppy, then."_

_Derek rolled his eyes. "Yeah, like a puppy, Stiles."_

_Stiles sat on Lana's opposite side, rubbing her belly as he undressed her and put her in a velvety Disney Princess nightgown. Lana cooed again and started nibbling on Derek's fingers, making the older werewolf chuckle. Stiles reached forward to pry Lana off Derek, but she began to whine and cry in her sleep when she no longer felt the older wolf's warmth. Stiles was about to panic, so Derek simply took the little girl from his arms and cradeled her tightly. She calmed down instantly, and Stiles began to look sheepish._

_"Ah- sorry about..."_

_"Don't be," Derek said with a smile. He settled against the headboard, looking upon Lana's face with affection. "She's comforted by my scent. I've been told it's musk and honey." Stiles laughed at that and sat next to Derek. "It'll do her good to be around more wolves... It'll do me good, too, honestly. Seeing her... It reminds me of my family..."_

_Stiles got very quiet. Derek hardly ever talked about his family, so when he did, people listened. "Cora wasn't my only little sibling, you know? There were a ton of kids in our family... It went Declan, Laura, me, Cora, then Isaiah and Cheyney, the twins, and then Peter's son, Errin."_

_"Peter had a ____kid__?" Stiles asked incredulously._

_Derek nodded. "And a mate... We ____all__ lost a lot in that fire..."_

_Stiles worried his lower lip as he looked at Derek. The way the beta held his daughter, looked at her like she was the most precious thing in the world, it was touching. "I'm excited for you guys to be a big part of her life. You, especially. I think she'll be able to tone down your Sourwolfy ways a bit." Derek cocked an eyebrow at Stiles, and the emissary laughed, punching his shoulder lightly. "Not to be a bother, but... Could you spend the night up here? I can't stand the idea of her having any nightmares tonight, and it looks like she's really comfty..."_

_Derek had to restrain himself from yelling ____"YES" __at the top of his lungs. "Sure. If you're alright with it..."_

_Stiles shrugged, nodding to the dresser. "Pants are in there if you want some."_

_Derek shook his head and used one hand to rip off the shreds of his shirt. "I don't think they'll fit- besides, I don't want to put her down."_

_Stiles beamed._

_It took a few minutes for Stiles to fall asleep, which was a very short time considering his ADHD. Derek thought nothing of it when Stiles began to slump into the covers. But when his head lulled over onto Derek's shoulder, the werewolf nearly jumped out of his skin. The pin-prickling, burning sensation that spread through his body when Stiles touched his skin, from his crown to the tips of his toes, made his wolf yip and nearly purr in pleasure. Derek closed his eyes, taking in Stiles's scent. It was a mix of a dewy water smell and herbs- rosemary, sage, peppermint, and more- that consoled his raw nerves. Curious, now, Derek moved his nose over to Lana's hair and sniffed. Stiles had removed her amulet when he was dressing her, so Derek could smell that tangy, dark scent that couldn't be described that said she was a wolf. Alongside it was a childish, innocent scent of a sweet, cotton-candy-esque flair with little spots of her original scent that she would grow into as an adult, a blackberry-and-waterfalls scent that made Derek hum in happiness._

_Closing his eyes, Derek took in the warmth of the pup in his arms and the man at his side, falling into a deep and blissful slumber._

_Sometime during the middle of the night, Stiles began to whimper and thrash around in the bed. Derek's eyes shot open, flashing electric blue as he looked around for a threat. When he saw none, he sighed and began to gently massage Stiles's head with one hand, running his thick fingers through the downy-like strands of hair. Stiles almost instantly began to relax, leaning into the touch and smiling. Derek grinned and fell back asleep._

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**please tell me if you like it! :D**

**(especially you, Du, cuz if you don't review im not getting you a bday present hmmph!)**

**I don't own teen wolf. :*(**


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